


An unwelcome discovery

by Gimmesumsuga



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angsty Schmoop, Bottom Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester, Ficlet, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Worried Castiel, Worried Dean, Worried Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 10:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8397505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gimmesumsuga/pseuds/Gimmesumsuga
Summary: Cas makes a worrying find at an inopportune time.





	

“Cas, c’mon,” Dean groans, arching his long back toward the bed and listing his upturned rear lazily to the left.  “Sam’ll be back soon and if I don’t cum _at least_ twice I’m gonna bitch all night.”  He cranes his neck to look over his shoulder to Cas, naked and knelt between his legs, and gives him a slow, seductive smile.

Long gone are the nerves that once made Dean stutter and shake as they cautiously pursued carnal pleasures for the first time.  It had been a long road they’d travelled since this thing between them started (2 years and 63 days ago, Cas was counting), and though sometimes it’d been awkward, heck, even downright embarrassing, it had been worth it to get to the place they are now.  These days the only thing Cas sees clouding the jade of Dean’s eyes is lust, not uncertainty, and he likes that much better.  

“Your brother is well aware of our activities, Dean,” Cas reminds him gently, one eyebrow raised as he runs his palms upward along Dean’s strong thighs.  Cas’ heart flutters a little at the chuckle that escapes Dean’s heart-shaped lips and he wants to kiss him, wants to so badly, but Dean speaks instead.

“Doesn’t mean he likes hearing it,” Dean chortles and Cas clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, fondling hands reaching the smooth, pert globes of Dean’s buttocks. Cas decides that Dean’s point is a valid one when the Hunter groans again, spreading his knees wider.

“If _someone_ could exercise better self-control-“

“Oh, hunny, you don’t want that,” Dean grins, flashing a smirk over his shoulder again and damn it, Dean’s right again.  Cas loves it the noises he pulls from Dean’s pretty throat; each curse and moan and mewl.   “C’mon, please.”  Cas presses the blunt of his thumb against Dean’s puckered hole, testing the resistance and smiling secretly to himself at the wanton noise that falls out of Dean as his head flops forward.  “Please, Cas, please, need you so bad.”  

Out of all the noises Dean makes, it’s his begging that Cas enjoys the most.  There’s no greater aphrodisiac than hearing this man who was once so repressed confess his want for Cas so freely and easily.  He can’t help but give his love what he wants.  

Cas slides two fingers into his own mouth, lathering them with saliva as Dean tantalisingly sways the ass that Cas is palming from side to side, and then finally presses a spit-slickened digit inside.  Dean’s hips cant as Cas pushes past the first quivering ring of muscle, steadying his lover with the other hand.  It squeezes, objecting even as Dean moans his consent, and Cas momentarily loses his mind thinking of how good it will feel around his cock.  

“Ugh, more,” Dean groans as Cas drags that finger back and forth, fixated on the way Dean’s asshole puckers around it as it moves, “You know I can – fuck, yes – take it, Cas.” Dean’s always too eager, too greedy and too good at ignoring his body’s pain signals telling him to slow down. It’s a real feat of self-restraint for Cas to take the time to properly prepare his lover, but he always does. He’d be loath to cause him any pain, no matter how vehemently Dean insists he can take it.

A second finger now and Dean’s almost purring with pleasure, pushing back against Cas’ fingers as his cock drips onto the blankets.  Cas is breathing hard too, the ache of wanting to bury himself inside Dean and loose himself too powerful to ignore much longer.  

But then he feels it, something strange.  Cas has done this enough times to know _exactly_ where Dean’s prostate is, that magic spot that gets him pulling at the sheets and gritting his teeth like he is now, so he knows that he’s in the right place.  But it’s _different_ somehow _…_

“Larger…” Cas mumbles to himself, examining it with the pad of his fingertip so thoroughly that Dean is writhing against his hand, oblivious to the concerned look on his boyfriend’s face.  

Cas withdraws his fingers entirely and sits back on his haunches, frowning hard while Dean braces himself, smiling, sure that he’ll soon be deliciously full and fucked into the mattress.  When it doesn’t come that smile quickly fades, confusion rendering him sober again.

“Cas?” Dean questions, twisting his body to look at the man sat behind him.  When he sees the concern on Cas’ face he turns fully, anxiety gripping his chest tight. What could have upset his precious Angel so badly in so short a time?  He plonks down cross-legged opposite Cas and leans forward to take each of his hands in his own, craning his neck to look up at Cas’ downward turned face.  “What’s wrong?”  

“Your prostate appears to be enlarged.”   Cas says it plainly, never one to mince his words despite the fact that making this discovery has filled him with such worry he’s feeling decidedly nauseas.  

Dean looks shell-shocked.  

“It… uh… it what?” he finally manages to ask, blinking rapidly, brows pulling down so far that they almost knot together.   Cas leans forward and places his lips against Dean’s stubbled cheek, unsure of what to say.  Offering comfort and reassurance is not exactly his forte, so he lets his gentle kisses do the talking for him.

“You should go to the doctor,” Cas mumbles as he presses his forehead to Dean’s, opening his eyes long enough to see the grim set of Dean’s mouth.  The handsome man sighs heavily against him, blowing breath across Cas’ face, and that’s when he knows he has a long fight ahead of him.  

It takes a week of incessant nagging to finally get Dean to agree to seek a professional opinion.   King of denial that he is, Dean would much rather bury his head in the sand and pretend that everything’s fine. And yeah, he has been getting up in the night to go pee when he never needed to before, but he’d put that down to actually being able to sleep longer than 4 hours these days.  His bladder just isn’t used to it.  And he’s _young_. Young men don’t have problems with their… with that.  Young men don’t have to go and get checked out by unfamiliar doctors in private places with garish gloves and cold lubricating gel.  

Cas can’t understand Dean’s aversion to a clinical digital examination.  He reminds him, head tilted and eyes squinted, that Dean’s rather quite fond of it.  He understands more when Dean flushes bright red beneath his freckles and explains in a small voice that it’s different when Cas does it.   _Special._ He doesn’t want anyone else to touch him the way Cas does.  Only Cas ever has.  

Finally, when Cas assures him that there are other ways of checking now, blood tests and other things, Dean finally relents.  

“Don’t tell Sam, ok?” Dean instructs gruffly, peering at his shoes, “Don’t need him worrying and googling shit.”   Cas nods solemnly, suddenly feeling guilty for the research he’s been doing whenever Dean’s not looking, scaring himself silly in the process.   He promises that he’ll go with Dean, if he wants him there and   though Dean can’t quite meet Cas’ blue eyes he still manages to nod a yes before retreating into the snug to lose himself in TV and beer.

They don’t talk about the way Dean clutches Cas’ hand in the doctor’s office when he finds out that a digital examination really is required.   Cas doesn’t mention how his heart breaks to see terror flash in Dean’s eyes as he lies on his side, knees drawn up to his chest.  Dean doesn’t apologise for the fingers on Cas’ right hand he probably breaks when he squeezes his fist and eyes shut tight. The Hunter has never looked so vulnerable, and it takes all of Cas’ efforts to not start comforting him with kisses and sweet whispers right then and there.  

Yes, Dean’s prostate is enlarged.  No, that doesn’t mean it’s…

They don’t talk about that either.  The big ‘C’ word.  If neither of them mentions it then it’s not even an option. It hangs over them though, lingers in the background of every conversation and embrace.  They’re quiet with each other in a way they’ve never been before, not since ‘you and I’ became ‘we’, but what they lack in words they make up for in reassuring touches.  I’m here.  It’s ok. Don’t worry.  We’ll be fine.  

They’ve come to terms with the fact that death will always be a possibility for the two of them.  In their line of work that’s one certainty that they can always count on.  But it’s never felt like this before, it’s never been so subtle and insidious.  This isn’t a monster that they can simply slay. Hack, slash, job done.  It’s lurking beneath Dean’s skin, small and slow, and just _not knowing_ is the worst thing feeling in the world.  

Mercifully it’s only two days before Dean’s cell phone rings with an unfamiliar number.  It wakes both of them, eyes opening and finding the other’s instantly.  The worry is evident on Cas’ face from the moment his post-sleep haze recedes, the lines on his forehead a permanent fixture lately, and they stay there for the entirety of Dean’s phone call.  

Dean says very little to the person on the other end of the line, and what he does say is gruff and croaky from sleep.  At no point does he make to disentangle his legs from between Cas’ thick ones, or release the Angel’s dead arm from where it’s trapped underneath Dean’s head.  The physical contact acts as a relief, even as Cas’ heart is pounding with apprehension as he desperately tries to read Dean’s facial expression for some sign, some clue.  Good news or bad?  

Dean ends the call with a beep and places the phone back on the bedside table.  He doesn’t speak immediately, and Cas feels as though he might burst.

“Dean?” he prompts, his voice almost breaking.  The other man turns back to him, lays an arm across Cas’ waist above the covers… and then he smiles.  

“Everything came back clear,” he says, and Cas thinks they’re the most beautiful words he’s ever heard. His heart swells in his chest, eyes widening to stare back at Dean who’s smiling like he’s just been told he’s won a lifetime supply of pie.  Cas can’t help but look for any hint of a lie, any sign that this is too good to be true, but when Dean laughs and nudges his nose against Cas’ to encourage him to respond, Cas knows it’s not a dream.  

He’s ok.  His Dean is ok.  

“Dean!” he exclaims, voice breaking as he shoves himself against the other man, pulling Dean to him even tighter.  He nestles his face into the crook of Dean’s neck, kissing every bit of skin he can find as Dean just laughs, wrapping his arms tighter around Cas in return, and it’s only until Cas tastes salt on Dean’s collarbones that he realises he’s crying with relief.  

“Dean… I’m so…”  He sputters, half-laughs, tries to put into words just how happy he is, just how much Dean means to him.  Maybe he should feel embarrassed by how pathetic he sounds, how very over-emotional and _human_ this response is, but he just can’t seem to care.  “I couldn’t have… if you…”

Dean hushes him softly, pulling back far enough to tilt Cas’ chin up and see cerulean eyes sparkling with moisture, happiness swelling inside him too.

“You didn’t think I was gonna leave you, did you?” Dean asks, smiling sweetly, amused and overwhelmed by the sincerity of Cas’ reaction.  Even after all this time he’s still caught off guard by just how much Cas loves him.  

An incredulous look passes over Cas’ features for just a moment, and then he gifts Dean with one of his rarest smiles; the one that stretches right across his face, crinkles his eyes and shows off all his teeth.  Dean’s stomach flip-flops in response.  

Cas slides his hand into Dean’s hair and kisses him, soft and slow and sweet.  He nibbles at Dean’s bottom lip, laves his tongue around each part of his mouth, drawing Dean closer to him still.  When he finally pulls back he’s breathless and Dean is flushed, aroused in equal measure.  

“Dean,” Cas murmurs softly against the other’s jaw.  “Dean, I love you.”

“I know,” Dean replies, just as soft, grasping onto Cas’ lean shoulders, “Me too, Angel.  I love you too.”  

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3


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